


How Lucian became Lucian

by StoryTellerBoneZone



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-01 07:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryTellerBoneZone/pseuds/StoryTellerBoneZone
Summary: Defiant to the end, forever and ever.
Kudos: 1





	How Lucian became Lucian

The Iron Cage, the clan home of the Stalbordes and minor city, rests silently in the starless night. Visually notable for being built inside the corpse of the Metal Titan, the eyes of the colossal creature burns bright as many of the clans crafters work tirelessly at crafting weapons of war. Morgan's warhammer is ready to begin crafting by Bruno, Victoria, Natalie, and Starvos. In the Echo Chamber, Perlita and Franco are discussing their children with Silver, Phoebe, Corvus, and Flavio. Mei and Lily are having sister talk on the outskirts of the clan home. The children are sleeping in their individual rooms or are napping in the play rooms. being quietly watched by the oldest teenagers, Marco, Russo, Bianca, Gianna, and some of the chefs.  
Lucian, a young 8 year old boy, stirs in his sleep. This is normal. But it isn't normal how violently he turns and tosses. His mother, Mei, always comforts him when she is around. 'He just had a nervous condition' she says. The rest of the clan has mixed feelings. His body is limber and fast and anxiety will keep you alive on the field. But at the same time, having such terrible pangs of fear overcome his spiky dirty blonde hair is never good. As a result, as a whole, the clan treats him a bit differently. More differently than Fiametta and Albria, the two demonkin twins. They treated him like a porcelain cup, not letting him out of sight and away from most of the fighting. He still had martial training, of course. What kind of Stalborde would he be if he couldn't wield a hammer?  
Lucian shoots up in the playland. He had another nightmare. Another time being chased around by a monster. He had ran from one part of the city to the other. He ran at the base of the skeleton's spine, screaming for anyone to save him. It was some sort of spider creature with vine like appendages. It twists and wraps around his legs but he pushes past it. Eventually, he runs through the bakery and is caught in the freezer. Right before he springs up from his bed. Right before he was ready to die, something defends him, shields raised.  
He looks around himself. It's dark. But there are tiny crystals floating near the ground that act like a dim light. He looks around the room at the other figures in the blankets. His heart races, his palms sweat. Trembling, he grabs a toy hammer from a nearby bin. It's quiet and undisturbing. He stalks quietly towards a blanket.  
He pulls back the blanket slowly. This one has a sleeping Aurora, Lucian's twin sister scrawled out and drooling on a pillow. He covers her back up. He gives her a tiny peck on the forehead, to which he quickly scratches. He sets off to find another blanket.  
He grabs a nearby blanket. This one is Vivia, snuggling a toy pickaxe. Lucian softly groans. Lucian has never seen Vivia without the stupid hat that Sven gave her. It appears that never remains true in her sleep. He covers her back up.  
He slinks to another blanket, his toy hammer raised again. He pulls back, revealing his little cousin Mastigos. Despite being 4 years old, Mastigos already has her first brand unlocked. When he touches her, for a brief moment, he can see what she's dreaming of. Lucian knows she's never seen a beach before but this is a fair recreation.  
Right before he grabs the blanket next to Mastigos, he hears a soft voice behind him. He pivots and swings. The hollow plastic hits Russo 's knuckles as he swats away the attempt.  
There's a brief moment of simply staring. Russo grabs Lucian by the hips and lifts him up. Before he has a chance to scream, Russo muffles his mouth with his hands and rushes out the door. It took two hours of story time to get them to fall asleep. Lin is super fussy without her daddy reading her every night. Russo refuses to admit defeat and ask Uncle Bruno for help and he refuses to redo that entire sequence.  
Russo takes Lucian to a nearby eating area, the one that had to be remodeled after Uncle Orange, Banana, and Aunty Giovanna played chicken against Franco II. He flops his youngest brother on a chair and kneels down to see him eye to eye. Lucian's eyes water as his lips bubble out noise.  
"Come on, Lucian, I'm not mad. Come on. Did you have a nightmare again?" Russo says, kindly.  
Lucian nods, trying to bumble out any words. His tears begin to streak down his cheek.  
"Was it about the sky demons?"  
Lucian shakes his head no.  
"The egg monster?"  
Lucian shakes his head no.  
"...Was it Uncle Bruno?"  
Lucian shakes his head no, but smiling a little.  
"I wouldn't blame you. You haven't gone through his hand to hand combat training yet."  
Lucian giggles a little before Marco and Bianca appear. Together, Marco, Bianca, and Russo form together the only triplets in the family. Bianca has a tray of three cups, filled with different drinks. For Marco, its a glass worth of whiskey, imported from Salis Mar. For Bianca, ginger lemon tea remains in the little porcelain cup with a crack when Marco was thrown out through a building by their grandfather during a sparring match. For Russo, it was milk.  
"Oh hey, Lucian." Bianca says softly. She places her tray on the low height table and softly hugs him. "Do you want some of my tea? I don't mind."  
Lucian nods quietly. He grabs one the cup while Bianca just smiles at him, motherly. He sips some, underestimating the heat. He burns his tongue and immediately drops it. If Russo didn't grab it as it fell, it would have shattered on the floor. And if another thing got split in the children's eating area, Aunt Natalie would have killed everyone.  
Marco looks at his brother, annoyed. Luci had always been an inconvenience for his family. He was by no means weak or even cowardly. But walking around him was like on eggshells. Marco shouldn't have to deal with this. He's 16, he's practically an adult. His water brands are nearly unparalleled in the family. No one can shoot scalding water out of their mouth, except for maybe his grandmother but she's a quarter pearl dragon that's cheating, like him. Lucian though. He has only a level 3 Earth Brand and level 1 Darkness Brand. And okay, that's the best that you can get, unless you're like Uncle Bruno but that's cheating, but still. That's nothing compared to Marcos.  
Lucian had been carefully watching his siblings during this time. He could see the utter pity that Bianca gave him and he could see the contempt of Marco. He gripped the table like a vice.  
Russo, seeing his younger brother's growing distress, tells him, "Why don't you get some more rest. I'm sure Aurora wouldn't mind if you stayed with her a little bit."  
Lucian reluctantly nodded. Although being with Aurora didn't mean anything to him in particular, being with someone might help.  
He leaves the room with Bianca. In the hallway connecting the eating area and the playroom, he quickly passes by a window. He stops, takes three steps backwards, and looks through the window. The starless sky caused his heart to race and his brow to sweat. Bianca grabs his shoulder and pushes him forward. He slides back under the blankets, right next to his twin. Bianca gives him a small kiss on the forehead and leaves.  
Bianca smiles at him and leaves. She goes to the window and stares into the night sky. Her heart begins to race too. She runs out to the other triplets and grabs them. She yanks Marco so hard his glass smashes against the floor, bits of glass and a near full cup of whiskey on the rocks mix together. They stare at the starless sky in terror.  
\---  
In the empty sockets of the Iron Cage, where lava freely fell from in use, the small team worked tirelessly. They were going to create a weapon for Morgan, a warhammer. Maybe it would attune to her. Maybe it would attune to someone else. But Morgan, the only one of her generation with the balls to ask Starvos and Bruno for one, this was meant for her. Although technically Starvos is part of Morgan's generation, he was as old as Bruno and far better at this sort of thing. You don't own the moniker of Master Enchanter for nothing.  
Natalie grabbed the hot metal bar with her bare hands and slammed down with her hammer.She beats it, turns it, beats it. Crafting the handle will be easy but it is necessary to make it nice. Meanwhile, Bruno works on getting the warhammer proper. Working together as an entire crew by himself, a half dozen hammer swings every few seconds makes it wonderful at warping the hammer into the rough shape. Starvos himself is working on getting the proper runes inscripted on it.  
For Morgan, she wants to be "Invulnerable, like my daddy!" but doing something like that might be too much. Instead, a different method might be used. Third degree murder is the best defense, after all. Maybe, just maybe, something that petrifies their target. Maybe something that can summon little monsters.  
As Natalie and Bruno weld their two pieces together, before they can they can add a reinforcement piece to absorb the shock of using the hammer, before Starvos can ask Bruno what his daughter would want, Russo slams against the safety glass door that serves as the entrance to the workshop. He’s wearing his battle armor and holds his quarterstaff on his back. Starvos looks surprised. Bruno rarely changes his expressions. Natalie is a secondary astral, doesn’t have a face, instead of more a shifting symbol on the fiery energy of her skin.  
Starvos waddles over and unlocks the door. Russo burst in, almost knocking Starvos, and screams, “Stop forging and look at the sky!”  
Starvos, Bruno, and Natalie look over. Natalie drops the warhammer against the ground, the imperfect and incomplete weld cracks against the stone floor.  
In seconds, a twisting horrifying cacophonous roar disrupts the Iron Cage. Thousands, bordering tens of thousands, of twisting screaming voices rage in the streets, rattling walls, and steel nerves.  
But the voices never reach the playroom. They remain still, the only sound that echoes through the room is Morgan’s loud snoring, Fiametta and Albria babbling to one another, and Aurora swinging and kicking in her sleep.  
Marcos and Bianca arm themselves in the backroom. Marcos equips a staff, an orb of water rotating above the staff. He wears a white blouse, black leather pants, and a brimmed hat. Meanwhile, Bianca holds herself with a full case of chain mail. She has a battle axe and a shield on her wrist.  
And as they leave to join their brother Russo, in defense of their family, a twisted mass of blood, meat, and bone greets them. It’s a quick job from their loving Uncle Bruno. This sculpture greets him with a shaken broken wave.  
“Uncle Bruno?” Bianca asks.  
This figure, the broken remains of a former Ogre stripped of its fat and skin, responds in a strained guttural voice, “It is me. You two, stay here.”  
“Why!?” the two shout.  
“Quiet.” it says. The ground pulses with their magic. “Stay here. Watch the children.” It continues.   
“Why!?” the two shout, as loud as before.  
“Someone needs to protect the children, in case. Also, you can prevent the building being hurt.”  
“Why can’t you do it? You’re everywhere.”  
“Whatever that is, it’s bigger than the largest moon. I’m needed.”  
The two look at each other and gulp.  
“Are you going to be alright?” Bianca asks, nervous. Marco death grips his staff. Bianca’s arm remains unsteady.  
“I’m fine. I’m going to try to grab it and pull it to the ground. Be prepared for earthquakes. I can see your mother. She’s going to join the fight. Your uncle loves you. Goodbye.”  
The Ogre corpses begins to twitch and turn. For a moment, it goes fully limp, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Then it dissolves into blood and disappears into the earth.  
Bianca and Marco look at each other. Bianca bites her lip. Marco’s brow furls.  
\---

Lucian has his ear resting on the ground. His sister stole his pillow and managed to whack him twice with it in her sleep. Lucian’s almost thankful. He can feel the vibrations in the ground, the shifts and changes of the building. A hundred scenarios run by in his mind. Is his mother sparring? Are they moving the building and forgot that the children were still there? Is there an Urbavore King Worm attacking the city? Are we being besieged by catapults? Are there eldritch abominations attacking? Are there two Urbavore King Worms attacking the city?  
Lucian doesn’t know. He sneaks to the room’s only window. It’s a large pane glass that fits most of the wall. He peeks behind the curtain and stares at the night sky. Why is it so dark? The night sky is never dark, not even when all three of the moons are bright and make everything disappear. There are hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of shining gem stones dotting around the night sky. Blues and pinks and yellows and whites and reds and they form so many pictures.   
But it’s dark. And it’s cold. No moon is shining down tonight. There’s only the light orange hum of crystals revealing Lucian.  
A wave of drowsiness hits him like lead balls against concrete. He stumbles for a brief moment, then shortly landing on his knees. Fear grows as he scrambles to his toy hammer.  
Lucian makes a checklist. He checks each blanket. Aurora is fine. Nicholas is here and Lin is snuggling up to her older brother. Morgan is also there, but she’s using them both as pillows. Maria is here, scratching at her bra. Luca is there, somehow being used as a blanket for Albria and Fiametta. Vivia is here, her hat still on. Beowulf is holding Malcolm on her arms. Mastigos is clinging onto Shadow.  
Lucian sighs. He doesn’t know what he expected. He makes another checklist. His mother and his Aunty Lily have disappeared. They were going to have some sort of conversation. And his grandparents were going to talk to Lucian’s father about etiquette and Stalborde-y-ness. But Uncle Bruno and Aunt Natalie are at the forge. They would know what to do.   
Lucian looks around. Everyone is so still. They’re breathing. But even Aurora is quiet and docile. Lucian grunts, and unlatches the window pane. The top half opens. Although he’s a bit short, he manages to climb through without kicking the glass open.  
He lands on the stone pavement without making too much of a noise. He looks one last time at his cousins and runs towards the forge, past the front door. He doesn’t notice his unconscious brother and sister.  
Lucian runs and runs. He passes by homes at first. All of these homes he’s been to at least once. Every here is family. He doesn’t see a single light on in any of the homes. If the Iron Cage didn’t have fluorescent moss on the sides of the pavement, Lucian wouldn’t be able to see his hands. With it, he can almost see it.  
He sprints passed the unlit workshops and stalls. He zooms through a gate checkpoint, completely unmanned. He passes by unconscious family members he can’t see with just fluorescent light.  
He reaches the base of the hollowed out mountain, where the sky can’t be seen. He goes slower and slower, until he’s out of breath. Then he goes further, his lungs burning. He reaches the elevator to the skull top. It’s where there’s an unnaturally forming magma chamber, near the top of the mountain, where the family forges.  
But the elevator is a terrible thing, completely rickety. It shifts with weight. There are no guard rails, just a floor, rope and a single wall with a set of buttons. Those folk from Ravenna ripped us off.   
Lucian’s heart races at the thought of going on this stupid thing. But his heart beats harder at the thought of his monsters. He grabs onto the rope and hits the button. He can hear a beep noise but nothing happens. He listens closely. He can’t hear the accompanying diesel engine run.  
He looks around, looking towards the darkness for the monsters. He can’t find anything. He slinks towards where the machines should be, in a nearby shed.  
He rips the door open and attempts to peer in. It’s too dark. He looks around for any light. The only thing he can find is the crystal connected to the wall. He rushes over and tries prying the thing, but it’s bolted in. He climbs it and hangs off of it, letting gravity handle the work.  
After three minutes, his sweaty nervous hands fall off. He hits the ground with a loud thud, hitting his leg with his hammer. Then he looks at his little toy and smirks. He jumps and whacks the crystal at the hammer, wedging it in. Then he grabs the hammer and lets gravity do all of it.   
It pops out and hits the ground with a tink. It doesn’t break. But in that brief moment, Lucian thought he had let all of his cousins die.  
He lurches forward and to the engine. He looks at it, looking for any on switches or levers. Or a gauge that says that it’s out of fuel. He unscrews the cap and dumps oil into it. He yanks a cord to start it. Then he yanks again. And then again. And with another test, a yellow, and switch frustrated kick, it turns on.  
He grabs onto that wall on the elevator that’s probably going to kill him, and hits the button. There’s no warning as he’s ripped into the air. It’s way quicker than anything Lucian has seen move. And soon, he can start to see the dark clan hall, staring back at him. He looks away, shifting his body weight when he does. The elevator tips and leans. He reasserts his grip but it’s too difficult. He grabs onto the rope for dear life, burning his hands red and inadvertently slowing the elevator ride. He tries to rebalance himself as best as he can, distributing his weight evenly so the elevator doesn’t tip.  
Soon, he’s at the top. Lucian jumps off the elevator at the meet presence of solid ground. He pants as he’s on the ground, absolutely terrified. He looks up and what greets Lucian is a hallway made of concrete, steel, and bullet proof glass. There’s a few hallways. Everything is measured and neatly labeled in blue tape.   
Lucian peaks his head around one of the doors. It’s a little storage area. There are different blocks of cut wood, each labeled with three numbers. Lucian looks at one. Sakura Wood, 4 inches x 2 inches x 12 inches. It’s a pretty white but under the orange hue, it somehow looks red to Lucian.  
Lucian’s worries begin to drown out his thoughts and he’s back running through the hallway. It’s dark. It doesn’t look used. And when Lucian makes it to the end of the hallway, entering the center of a T intersection, and standing in front of the plexiglass door labeled “Smithing Area,” his heart sinks to the ground. There’s no one here.  
They have to be. He runs down the second hallway looking for someone, anyone. The jewel workshop is empty. The glass making workshop is closed. The woodcarving shop is dark. The tinker shop is nonexistent. The tailoring workshop is there but Lucian didn’t expect in any.  
He goes back to the black smithing workshop and looks inside. He pushes against the door and opens it. It’s slow and it creaks. Lucian’s eyes dart back and forth between the dark places in front of him and the leering hallway behind him. He takes his first steps forward cautiously. Anything can be in here. Goblin rogues, ogres looking for revenge for their long fallen empire, wolves, pranksters, demons that aren’t family, any and all could be here.  
He doesn’t even see the warhammer on the ground as he hits his foot on it. He falls onto his knees, then rolls onto his back. With all his might, he wants to scream in pain. His eyes and mouth open wide and his fist silently pound against the stone floor. But he maintains his composure.  
After taking a brief second grabbing the crystal and examining the warhammer, it seems like Uncle Bruno and Aunty Natalie’s newest creation. It looks perfect. The size is clearly made for an adult. It’s strong and hefty. And it was made by three of the greatest blacksmiths of the clan. It has to be perfect for defending his cousins.  
He grabs it and heaves it over his shoulder. It’s heavy, almost ten pounds, but Lucian’s backpack is heavier when he goes out with his parents on a trip to the ocean. He’ll be fine.  
Lucian checks by one more room, the room he didn’t choose to go to when he first entered. With a glowing crystal in one hand and a warhammer in the other, he pushes the door in with his shoulder.  
Laying on the ground is his favorite brother Russo, unconscious. He’s holding a water bottle that’s managed to pour onto the ground. He looks exhausted and in pain. Lucian breathing goes sporadic and heavy. He knew it. Everyone was going to die.   
He checked Russo’s pulse. He grabbed his hand, put his thumb in the right place, and stood silently. There’s one and it’s strong. He put his ear to his brother’s chest. He’s breathing. He’s fine. Lucian silently cheers.  
But then the entire building begins to shake and shift. Lucian looks around the room, viewing books falling for shelves. Shelves fall from walls. A table slides off and falls over. Glass tableware smash against the floor. Lucian can’t help but scream. He’s alone. Russo is down. The darkness is creeping inside. His crystal can’t produce enough light to see everything.  
In an instant, the earthquakes begin. In an instant, they stop again. Lucian looks around in a panic, bracing himself for another one. For three minutes there is silence. When he looks at his brother to see if he’s stirred again, another ripple of energy crashes into the room, knocking a wall down on Lucian chunk by chunk.  
Lucian’s face smashes against the concrete floor, breaking his nose and cutting his chin. A rebar rod slams in between his fingers. Dust settles in his dirty blonde spiky hair. A chunk of rock smashes against his right ankle. He screams in anguish and he screams to get his brother up.  
There’s another shockwave. It’s gentle. It quietly pulls him towards sleep. But the utter pain keeps him awake. It forces him to keep going.  
“R-Russo.” Lucian hiccups out. “Russo, I need you. But y-you can’t get up. I need to go get someone. This isn’t right. P-please, be safe. I’m going to drag you to the hallway. Be-e sa-afe. P-please, by any of the gods l-listening to me right now, b-be ali-ive when I g-get back. Ple-ease don’t get murdered. Please.”  
Large clumps of tears fall onto the ground as Lucian drags Russo towards the hallway. It’s safer there. If he shakes, he won’t fall off the edge. There’s nothing to fall on him. It’s the safest place for him right now.  
Lucian knows if he tries to bring his older brother down this specific elevator, they’re going to fall and die. He can’t even entertain the idea when pain shoots up his leg every time he But Lucian wants a safe way to bring him down. Just something.  
But that something doesn’t come.  
He leaves his brother there. He hits the button, tears still bubbling on his face. He’s slowly lowered to proper ground. There’s no complications with his trip. Lucian is terribly still. He takes one step onto the ground and tumbles over.  
“I should go back. I should go back. I should go back.” Lucian chants in his head. Tears well back up in his eyes. “He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to die.”  
Lucian holds up the warhammer and thinks about smashing it on the ground in rage. But he needs a clear head. Everyone is going to die if he doesn’t. Everyone is asleep. Everyone is asleep. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  
Lucian looks at the downhill run he would have to do. He can’t manage that against. He looks to the shed where the engine is, the door still open. He puts the crystal in his front pocket, just peeking out enough to see, if barely.  
One vertical slam to bust the handle open. One straight shot into the wall, like a tennis racket to plant a hole next to the hinge. One straight shot into the wall, like a golf club, to cause the door to fall over.   
He grabs it, and drags it the elevator. He hits the button again. He leans against the wall. The elevator tips and sways. But as long as Lucian doesn’t panic, he won’t fall. It’s an easy trick. Don’t look down. Don’t think of falling down. Don’t fall.  
When he gets to the top, he places the door on the floor. He’s still alive. He’s still breathing. He’s not going to survive if Lucian leaves him here for another earthquake.He turns his much older and much bigger brother onto his stomach. Then he flips him again to be on top of the door, on his back.   
He shambles past his brother. His ankle is on fire. Pain shoots up at every step. He’s long stopped crying at the thought of his family dying and is crying due to the intense pain. But he keeps pushing. His heart pumps and pumps and his grip tightens every second.  
He reaches his destination, the tailoring shop. He slams his body against the glass and it swings open. He moves to the draws and grabs out a hard wrap. He goes to work on his foot immediately. It’s swollen and it’s gotten purplish red. The orange hue of the crystal doesn’t help determining color. He wraps it very tightly. He’s hoping nothing is broken. He grabs out some rope on the side of the room, 50 feet if the label on the wall is accurate.  
When he reaches his brother, he wraps all four of his brothers limbs in slip knots connected to the empty hole where the handle is. His chest and waste are secured like a double seat belt. Lucian is nervous putting rope around Russo’s neck. Instead, he opts for wrapping it around his forehead. It’s wound and wound four times. Russo is so secure this rope could be classified as armor.  
Limping, Lucian pushes Russo to the edge and onto the center elevator. When he does, the elevator sways a few inches forward, leaving a gap in between solid ground and the floor. Lucian gulps.He steps on to the center and pushes the button.  
For the first few seconds, everything is fine. Then another shockwave rumbles through the clan home.The elevator begins to sway heavily. Lucian steps forward, kicking his brother’s hip. He takes a step back, his wounded ankle dips off of the platform. He falls two feet until he can grab onto something, the side of the flooring, and begins to heave. He’s so far in the air. He’s sliding against the wood, his nails scratching and breaking. His brother’s unconscious body begins to slide towards him, instead of remaining in the center of this insufficient elevator.  
Lucian looks at the ground and measures the distance but he’s always been bad at judging distances. He takes too long to judge and he can feel the door pushes against his broken finger nails. His eyes grow wide.  
“I need to jump if Russo is going to live. Russo is better than me. He’s stronger than me. He’ll serve the family better.” Lucian says, attempting to motivate himself. But it only gets him to cry.  
Lucian jumps anyway, tears blocking his eye. He tries to aim for the rope. He almost makes it. He dives passed it with his torso but his broken ankle snags it. His momentum broken, his neck whip lashed, and he dives straight down.  
His tears fall upward as he scrambles to grab the rope. One swipe meets nothing but air. The second swipe hits the rope but he can’t get it. But with the knowledge of its relative position, he grips the rope as best as he can. But stopping gravitational pull with rope is painful. That’s all Lucian knows right now. He doesn’t want to die. And if he wants to live, it’s going to hurt.  
His hands burn terrible, going from pale to burning red. His ankle throbs, broken in a few places. His neck hurts, being whip lashed. But his heart hurts the most.  
He’s unable to stop all of his speed when he smashed into the ground, landing poorly on his once good leg. Soon after, the elevator lands with his brother in tow.  
The sound of bone shifting and snapping fills the air. His own wailful shriek pierces the silence. And there’s nothing else in the air. No sounds of life, no shockwaves from a distant battlefield, no restful snores of his brother reaches Lucian. Lucian is alone.  
There’s a gentle shock wave that hums against the stone ground. It lulls Lucian back to the earth. It calls to Lucian by name. But Lucian can’t hear it through his screaming.  
He imagines what his father would do. He wouldn’t ever be caught in this situation. Him and his crew would be in and out. His mother would crack open the very earth and swallow everything. Uncle Figgy would be as strong as a mountain and jump off with his brother. Aunt Natalie would turn into a monster and sink in to the Earth. Aunt Lily would teleport from shadow to shadow. What does Lucian do? He jumps off and breaks his other leg.  
Lucian coughs and turns. He grabs the door and pulls himself towards it. Little by little, inch by inch, his head lolling back and forth as he goes, he gets to it. His fingers curl into the scratched wood and he climbs aboard. He flips onto his stomach and looks at his brother. He places an ear to his chest. He’s breathing.   
Lucian looks at where he came from. It’s downhill and too far of a distance to walk in quickly, let alone crawl. And if he tries to crawl, there’s a good chance he’d fall, then tumble down. But he has an idea. He uses the warhammer to push against the ground and slowly shifts his weight.  
Soon, Lucian and his brother careen towards the playroom, broken ankles, hurt neck, and bloodied fingers. It’s faster than Lucian’s ever moved and yet, it wasn’t fast enough. His heart beat out of his chest. His worries overwhelmed the pain he was in. He could see the room’s faint glow.  
The large window pane was smashed open.  
He careened faster and faster towards it. Lucian’s heart sank. His grip on the warhammer tightens. His breath grows faster and faster, rapid and rabid, his first brand pulling him closer to the ground.   
When Lucian and Russo reach the window pane, Lucian rushes up, only to fall down. His arms and legs sink into the ground like prey in quicksand. But Lucian’s personal survival is the last thing on his mind. What’s on his mind is what he sees: monsters.  
A twisting mass of vines wrapping itself around his family. Everyone is sleeping, snoring even, trapped in a somni-cage of peaceful rest. But the way their blood pools on the ground, the way Luca’s guts lay in a pile on the ground, the way that large moist eggs being injected into his family, it makes Lucian’s broken body shiver with pure rage. He screams a bloodied war cry worthy of any proper Stalborde.  
It turns towards him, revealing it’s alien features. It’s large. It’s far larger than any goat, person, or bull that Lucian has ever seen. But it’s small enough to float comfortably in the room. It’s vaguely tadpole shaped, wrapped with vines like skin. There are vine like appendages twisting around Lucian’s family, Albria, Fiametta, Maria, Mei, Nicholas, Morgan, Shadow, Beowulf, Mastigos, Vivia, and Aurora. Lucian can see the greenish black appendages covered in blackish ichor pooled together with drying blood. Luca, Albria, Nicholas, Beowulf, and Aurora have their stomachs ripped open, their blood pooling under their bodies. Luca isn’t moving, except when the twitch of the set of large ostrich sized eggs causes his body to perform a macabre dance. The creature’s head appears to be some sort of skull of an animal he’s never seen before. It’s semi translucent, with hundreds of porous holes lining the side like ant nest, and it’s macabre teeth seem dull and rotting, giving off the smell of phosphorus, rotten eggs, and sulfur. Inside the eldritch abomination’s skull like head, the eye sockets possess a swirl inside them that seems to begin at infinity, growing smaller and smaller as it gets farther and farther away.   
Like a meteor falling off of the sky, Lucian sinks straight into the earth. Where solid floor was before, he found liquid stone. He couldn’t breathe, it felt like water in a bath house. It was warm, welcoming, but not a place for him to stay. This must be the first of his magic.  
Despite the safety of the earth, he pushes himself forward. Unlike going down, like softly floating to the surface of ocean water, he’s sling shot up, like being pulled in a rip tide. The moment his bloodied body bursts from the ground, there’s a gentle shock waves emanating from the creature before him. He feels a grip around his willpower. His body screams for sleep. It calls him back to where it's safe, under water, where it’ll be okay.  
But through a ravenous roar and the adrenaline through his veins, Lucian smashes the creature at its chin, his momentum emphasizing the hit. Three distinct cracking noises resonant through the otherwise silent room. When he lands, the room is quieter still, only interrupted by snoring victims. Lucian grips his wrist. It’s bent, bits and pieces jut to through to the top. Lucian drops his warhammer and cries in pain. He looks up to the creature, a large crack forming on the skull. It floats above a pool of blackish yellow ichor, bits of black egg shells above it. Tiny worm abominations flip and dance until they quickly begin to wither before him.   
Tears begin to obstruct his view. He doesn’t see how the hammer’s cracked. It never had the chance to properly cool during its creation. It had dropped against the floor. Now it had been used for a devastating blow. But if Lucian did see it, he wouldn’t care. He bites his lip, and through tear filled eyes, he looks towards his family. He switches hands and runs as best as he can and destroyed legs. It reaches for him. It’s slow, like his mother’s warm embrace. It’s quiet, like a moonlit night. It’s serene, like a corpse in a grave.  
He activates his magic, feeling the terrible fatigue of its use, and dips down before it could capture him. The calm unmoving and inert waves feel like home to him, lulling him to float further down. And he does. For the bare minimum of moments, the briefest of seconds, he floats downward. Then he rips upward, like the world’s deadliest siege weapon. The next blow is shattering. Shards of debris fly everywhere, entering the insides the Stalborde’s bellies as shrapnel. Lucian, feeling the ruined weight in his working hand, his blurry eyes take a quick look at warhammer, or what’s left of it. The head of the warhammer is completely taken off, cracked at the incomplete welding job. The only thing left is a broken handle. Lucian looks towards the creature. It can see its jaw has been ripped off, there’s a spiderline crack on the rest of its alien skull, and the vines have turned an odd pinkish red. The creature’s hovering wavers, tilting ever so slightly like a soon to be dying goldfish.  
With the pain of his ankles being too much to bear, he drops to his knees. The warhammer handle in his hand supports him like a crutch. He looks up towards the creature as it bobs.  
Once more the creature, turns to face him. With the jaw broken, he can see the underlying eggs within a skeletal structure that is surrounded by vines. Something about the clunkiness of the bones makes it seem malformed or partially designed. Not everything goes together. It’s not symmetrical. It’s releasing that strange ichor from unknown pours on the inside. The only thing perfectly normal is the egg shape. The eldritch creature roars.  
Lucian, despite his broken wrist, both his broken ankles, the cuts on his face, a broken nose, and fatigue-mental, physical, and emotional- faces it again. This eldritch abomination wants to come to Lucian's house? Not on his watch. He has one last shot to kill it. Everyone is going to die without him. Everyone. Luca.  
“...Fuck…” Lucian says. He has to deal with this. He knows he has to do this. Everyone will die without him. He has to do this. He thinks he has to do this.  
He falls into the ground, liquid stone cascading around him. His movements adjust in the darkness. The pain on his ankles is so light here. It throbs, but it’s like he’s being lifted up.  
Shame what Lucian plans on doing. It takes 2 seconds to float downward. It takes 10 seconds to stay there, enjoying the fleeting moment of quiet. It takes 1 second to be ripped above.  
Lucian rushes out of the earth, aiming himself to body slam the creature. His ribs bruise as it slams against solid bone. His head lulls back from the whiplash from earlier. His small, fragile, 8 year old body, shatters the remains of that creatures.His body bounces off and lands on the ground. He’s panting horribly,hyperventilating. He looks up in horror.  
But the creature’s skull bulge inwards and shake. The spider line crack turn to a full on shattering. Bits and pieces break apart. The vines drop the sleeping Stalbordes like puppets. It screams and roars a terribly high pitch tone that dissolves into pure white noise. Lucian attempts to cover his ears but his wrist flops uselessly, flinging blood around. The eggs inside of it begin to crack and shake. Worm like babies burst open only to dehydrate, dance, and die.   
His eyes wander towards his unbreathing brother.  
But another earthquake erupts from below. This one more violent than the others. It shakes and quakes, breaking down the nearby walls and bits of the roof, dust and small chunks,fall around him. Lucian begins to drag himself towards the youngest among them, Mastigos. Rocks fall on his shoulder and his back. They’re small, not even enough to bruise him. But they hurt so badly for him. Everything is terrible.  
And when he reaches her, he can see it. The terrible vines entering the room. There are more of the same vine covered creatures,spewing the same thick slimy ichor. The skulls are different, slightly more malformed and twisted than the last. One is significantly larger, knocking down the rest of the ceiling when it enters. Vine appendages begin to gather the children again It begins to start where the last left off.  
Lucian covers Mastigos as protective as he can, rivaling the strongest dead man’s grip, but his journey has drained him of all his energy. When it lifts him, he’s forced to let go.   
He feels the terrible lull to sleep again, to just let go, to let the world wash over him. But he resists, his final resistance to everything, defiant to the end, to watch. And above the destroyed playroom, he could see something terrible. A fleshy pulsating worm, twisting and rearing and bleeding; but the darkness of the night wraps it like leather skin made of Lucian’s family. Pods launch out of its body like artillery mages in a battalion. The shapes that it is made of twist and clip into itself. It begins a twitches out of reality, but only in segments, to allow for the large vine covered pods to be shown each time. It’s as if the world is attempting to deny its existence .  
His stomach is pulled open like a satin blanket. The contents are moved away. It’s the worst sort of tickle, on the inside. Blood begins to drip from Lucian’s nose. The vines begin to press against Lucian’s rib cage from the inside. He would have screamed if he could manage to catch his breath; but with the way his lung, is being pushed down by vines, it’s hard to breathe and harder to think. But he’s almost feeling nothing now. His consciousness would be slipping away if Lucian hadn’t refused.  
The first egg crushes his right lung and pushes against his right shoulder. The second nestles between his spine and below his left lung. The third is smashed between the first two, on top of his exposed beating heart. The fourth rests on top of his kidney. The fifth is tucked in his hip.  
Tears freely stream from his eyes. Blood gushes out of his nose. Every time an egg twitches against his spine, his hands shoot up. There’s another gentle shockwave, lulling him back down. He almost takes it. But another shockwave, more powerful than any other, over takes anything.  
He sees his mother amidst an avalanche, a torrent of pure rock and metal, rushing towards him. His left eye begins to shift from its possession as the creature attempts to place a sixth egg inside of him. She’s absolutely pissed looking, decked out in her full armor. He can feel the shock and pain force him into slumber. He takes his last moment of consciousness, perhaps his last moment of life, to spit on the creature.

\---  
Epilogue   
Years later, when Lucian is 16, the Stalborde inner council begin their debate.  
“Today, we are here to discuss the next generation. Although Figgy the FIfth has accepted the role of clan representative and Amocki has proven herself an excellent candidate. Let’s begin. Whom does everyone support as one of the four representatives of the Stalbored Clan?” Lord Franco Stalborde begins.  
He looks around the room, eyeing the two dozen or so inner council member. Some of which are family.  
Lord Barelore Stalborde II stands up, donned in burning armor and with his twisted knife. He looks unhinged all the time, disheveled hair and a unruly beard. However, despite this and despite being a dwarf, Barelore is still a strong paladin and a well respected member. He coughs a lung and asks the group, “Do you think Lucian would be a good candidate to being a representative?”   
Lord Bruno Stalborde immediately rebuttals, “No. Ever since the attack of that unidentified creature against King’s Rock, where we lost quite a few people including Marco, Russo, and Luca all three are Lucian’s older siblings. He has not been mentally stable since. He’s always on the look out for his family members, yes, but he’s obsessed and fatalistic.”  
Lord Starvos Stalborde adds, “He also refuses to go out without plate. Representatives rarely wear plate.”  
“But at the same time,” Barelore adds, “But he’s skilled with a warhammer, a skilled fighter, he does well in all fields.”  
Lord Mei Stalborde adds, “My son also has a reputation in several cities. A very well deserved reputation, of him being a psychopathic and unrepentant killer.  
“What did he do?” Lord Natalie Stalborde asks.  
“‘Find some eldritch abominations in the bar’” her sister responds.  
Barelord coughs and says, “I formally retract my suggestion.”

**Author's Note:**

> Defiant to the end, forever and ever.


End file.
